I'll Be Your Mirror
by Gaby Black
Summary: [Oneshot] The more distance Sirius puts between his family and himself, the more Regulus is eager to fit in. They both know it is a vicious circle, an endless whirl into which they are drowning, never to be back again. [To Cuban Sombrero Gal]


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter universe, JK Rowling does. I do not own the song lyrics, the Velvet Underground does.

**Summary:** The more distance Sirius puts between his family and himself, the more Regulus is eager to fit in. They both know it is a vicious circle, an endless whirl into which they are drowning, never to be back again, and yet both are too proud to give the other a hand. "You're not like that, Reg. I know that. You're not like them."

**Author's note:** My first take on Sirius and Regulus. The lyrics are from the song "I'll be your mirror" by the Velvet Underground & Nico.

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To **Cuban Sombrero Gal**

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**I'll Be Your Mirror **

The eight-year-old boy shivers as he walks towards the door of his brother's room. He stands in the chilly corridor for a while, undecided, careful not to make any noise that could wake his parents. Finally, he musters enough courage to knock, hoping that Sirius isn't sleeping. After two minutes of persistent knocking, a sleepy looking Sirius opens the door.

"Reg?" Sirius grumbles. "What's going on?"

Regulus bites his lip and looks down at his feet. "I had a nightmare again."

Sirius frowns. "The one with the cave and the lake with dead people in it?"

Regulus nods, closing his eyes briefly in an attempt to chase the nightmare away. Sirius sighs as he realizes that his brother can't even go to their parents' to be comforted. The least he can say is that Walburga and Orion Black are far from being the comforting type.

"Come in, then," Sirius whispers, ushering his little brother into the room.

Regulus smiles gratefully and enters. Sirius closes the door and, when he turns back to his brother, sees that he is shivering.

"You're cold?" Sirius says softly. "Get into the bed."

Regulus climbs into the bed and disappears gleefully behind the covers, feeling suddenly safe and warm. Sirius sits on the edge of the bed, listening to the storm raging outside, the rain clattering painfully against the windows of the desolate house. _No wonder Reg is making nightmares…_

"It was the same nightmare," Regulus finally speaks, only his head emerging from the blankets. "But this time it was more… _vivid_, like I was really in it, you know?"

Sirius stares at him, his brow furrowed with worry. A particularly violent thunder makes them both jump.

"You'll be fine now," Sirius says, and then adds, quieter, as an afterthought: "Well, as fine as we can be here."

For a while they remain silent, and judging by Regulus's regular breathing, Sirius thinks that perhaps he fell asleep.

"You're going to Hogwarts next year," Regulus says suddenly, in a whisper, as though he doesn't want to say the words too loud for fear that Sirius might leave right away. "I don't want you to go."

Regulus's voice is so quiet Sirius can barely hear it over the sound of the rain. Sirius forces a smile and pokes Regulus's arm playfully.

"You'll be just fine," Sirius says, and he doesn't quite know who he is trying to reassure, Regulus or himself. "And you'll just have to wait for two years before you get to go to Hogwarts, too."

Regulus nods and looks around, stopping at the drawing hung up on the wall, just above the bedside table. It is something that Regulus drew for Sirius when he was six. Now he thinks that it is so poorly drawn, compared to what he can do now that he is older, that it is ridiculous. It represents Sirius and Regulus, both flying on brooms, and Sirius has an arm around Regulus's shoulder and looks cool and protective. Regulus cannot wait to play Quidditch in Hogwarts, he'll be in the same team as Sirius, in Slytherin.

"I don't like this drawing much," Regulus says.

Sirius gives a small smile. "I do."

* * *

When Sirius returns home for the Christmas holidays one year later, a lot has changed. He finds the house gloomier than ever, so dead and bleak that even Christmas decorations don't manage to liven it up, to make it look like there is actually a _family_ living in it.

Sirius has been sorted into Gryffindor and, if he had never really been in good terms with anyone in his family except for Regulus (has never even heard the words _I love you_ from his own parents, or from anyone, for that matter), now they are all downright cold to him. Sirius only begins to understand why. He has discovered new people and new things at Hogwarts, a whole new world where Muggle-borns, like this fiery red head who is top of his class, are just as worthy of being wizards as Purebloods are. When Sirius voices this thought, his father slaps him until his cheeks hurt and his mouth is bleeding.

Sirius runs up to his bedroom; his eyes are burning. He looks at himself and his face full of tears in the great ancient mirror, and swears to himself that he will never ever cry again.

"What's going on, Sirius?"

Regulus is standing behind him, looking at him with a puzzled expression. He has never seen his big brother weep before, had thought he was invincible. Sirius roughly wipes his tears away in a futile attempt to hide them.

"Never mind that, Regulus," Sirius shakes his head.

Sirius wipes the blood from his lips, and _Merlin it hurts like hell, and why did Regulus have to see that_? Sirius smiles of a strange, fake grin that makes Regulus feel uneasy.

"Bloody Christmas, eh?"

Regulus doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

Sirius turns to Regulus and realizes with a start how much they look like each other. It's as though he is looking at himself, but with deliberate mistakes: Regulus is smaller and slighter, and his nose is slightly pointed, but they have the same dark hair and the same stormy grey eyes. Sirius hopes Regulus will become more like him than like the rest of their family.

"This is what you get for speaking the truth," Sirius mutters under his breath.

Sirius takes a deep breath and tries to act naturally. He forces another smile as he ruffles Regulus's hair.

"Come on, Reg, let's have a return game of Exploding Snap. I want to win this time."

And Regulus smiles at his brother with his usual mixture of pride and respect, but it is now tainted with a dozen other emotions that Regulus can't quite grasp yet.

_I__'ll be your mirror_

_Reflect what you are, in case you don't know_

_I'll be the wind, the rain and the sunset_

_The light on your door to show that you're home_

* * *

But Regulus takes Sirius's words the wrong way. _This is what you get for speaking the truth…_ These words haunt him during the last year that he spends alone in Grimmauld Place with his parents while Sirius is having fun in Hogwarts with _those_ _filthy_ _Mudbloods._ He remembers them when he is relieved to be Sorted in Slytherin, remembers them whenever he is at home with Sirius and his brother gets told off more or less violently, but he forgets them once he feels accepted by his fellow Slytherins. Years pass by, and Regulus is a good boy and a proud Slytherin, so that _he never gets what Sirius got for speaking the truth_.

Regulus doesn't want to fight with his family. He just wants to be loved and accepted, and maybe if he does what he is told, he will be. He doesn't understand how Sirius can reject his own family, how he can reject the only thing that keeps them together. Regulus doesn't know friendship. He doesn't know love. He only knows that if he obeys, they'll treat him alright and if he doesn't, he'll end up like Sirius, and he's not brave enough for that.

Soon the walls of his room are covered with green and silver banners, the family's motto _Toujours Pur_ engraved above the bed. When Sirius sees it, he refuses to enter Regulus's room ever again. One week later when Regulus enters Sirius's bedroom, he finds that his drawing has been removed from the wall, replaced by pictures of Sirius's friends. He feels an odd sinking feeling in his stomach.

And the more distance Sirius puts between his family and himself, the more Regulus is eager to fit in. They both know it is a vicious circle, an endless whirl into which they are drowning, never to be back again, and yet both are too proud to give the other a hand. No one is here to rescue them.

When Sirius leaves home, Regulus thinks that he is just being a bastard, and _go to Hell, Sirius, you're not my brother anymore_. The words are harsher than he had meant, but Sirius's eyes are flashing with anger, too. _No, Reg, you'll go to Hell if you don't change_, and they both feel like they're acting in a play that wasn't written for them.

They don't speak to each other for a year. Every time they pass each other in Hogwarts, they make as if they don't see each other, they pretend they are not hurt. Sirius laughs and pulls pranks with his friends, is fancied by half of the female population, and everyone thinks he is perfectly happy. But even though no one knows, not even his closest friends, Sirius misses Regulus. He misses making Regulus laugh and telling him about life, and protecting him.

Regulus plays Seeker in the Quidditch team, he makes fun of Muggleborn students with his fellow Slytherins, he is proud of being a Black, and everyone thinks he is perfectly happy. But, as much as Regulus wants to admit it, he misses Sirius terribly. Turns out being the Blacks' only son is not as gratifying as he thought it would be, and sometimes Regulus simply hates himself. He misses playing games with Sirius, talking with him until late at night even if they argue, and looking up to him, something which is now forbidden.

* * *

At the end of his fifth year, Regulus decides to join the Death Eaters. In fact, he pretends he decided it, but mostly he was pushed by Bella. He doesn't want anyone to know that, especially not Sirius. He wants to prove to his brother that he is brave, too, that he can make decisions for himself. On the last day of classes, all the students are lingering on the grass under the sun. Sirius walks towards Regulus, who is sitting with his fellow soon-to-be Death Eaters, and, without a word, waits for him to stand up. And Regulus stands up and strolls along with Sirius towards the lake, and it feels weird.

"I've heard the news," Sirius says.

His voice is harsh and rushed, as though he has wanted to say the words for a long time. Regulus looks away. For the first time in months, Sirius studies his brother's twisted face and is appalled at how much he has changed. Like in a distorting mirror, in Regulus's icy eyes Sirius can see his own dark reflection, the lost, love-craving, scared Sirius that no one knows, and he thinks that, really, they're both children. Children fighting a war.

"I'm not going to lecture you; I don't think it would be of much use. We both know it's no use lecturing me, and I believe we're much more alike than we want to admit."

Regulus glances furtively at Sirius, surprised and secretly pleased. Sirius suddenly stops walking and puts his hands on Regulus's shoulders and shakes him as though it will talk sense into him.

"You're not like that, Reg," Sirius whispers, "I know that. You're not like _them._"

"It's too late, Sirius," Regulus says numbly. "I've chosen my side."

Sirius's expression freezes and he shakes his head, proud and handsome under the bright summer sun that burns Regulus's pale skin.

"You stupid idiot."

They are so convincing in their display of spite that everyone thinks that they hate each other. Perhaps they have managed to convince themselves, too.

Regulus almost snarls back, but he just turns in silence and makes his way back towards his group of Slytherins, not that he could ever call them his friends. He sits down and when he looks up, he sees that Sirius is still standing where he has left him, and then Regulus watches as Sirius slowly walks away, wondering when they will see each other again, wondering if they ever will. He can no longer hear his schoolmates' light-hearted chatter and laughter in the distance, only Sirius's words echo through his head.

_You're not like that, Reg. You're not like them._

_When you think the night has seen your mind_

_That inside you're twisted and unkind_

_Let me stand to show that you are blind_

_Please put down your hands_

'_Cause I see you_

* * *

Regulus often thinks back of the day when Sirius stood looking at them in the mirror, red-tainted eyes and blood-stained lips.

"But why did you _have_ to say those things?" Regulus had asked.

"You'll understand when you grow up," Sirius had answered.

But Regulus grows up and still he doesn't understand, not until he has plunged too deep to get out of it alive. It's the nightmare again, the one with the cave and the lake with the dead people in it, except this time it is real.

* * *

When Sirius finds out that Regulus is dead, what hurts him most is to think that he died hating him, and believing that he hated him too. Sirius blames it all on the Blacks' pride and hopes that maybe Regulus still looked up to him, that perhaps he knew Sirius loved him in spite of everything. James, laughing smiles, Lily, tender hugs, and Remus, caring eyes, are all there to comfort him but Sirius still feels like a part of himself is gone.

The last words he ever said to his brother were an insult. It's so very much in his character that Sirius gives his usual bark-like laughter as his shoulders begin to shake with sobs, sounding like a stray dog howling in the empty streets.

Yes, even though it's breaking his promise, Sirius Black cries, _he was barely eighteen._ The emotions he has kept inside for so long are now released, and he cries freely on Lily's shoulder as James pats his back rather awkwardly, and _crying feels like home._

Too bad the idea of home doesn't evoke for him laughter, games or long talks by the fire, but the salty taste of tears mingled with blood and the crestfallen, scared reflection of a child who uncomprehendingly watches his brother cry.

But later he learns that Regulus tried to back away and turned against Voldemort, and through the tears he smiles bitterly, _I knew it. _

And Sirius looks at the old drawing that he has always kept with himself without anybody knowing, at the _For Sirius_ clumsily scribbled by the child's hand, and _his little brother is gone._

As Sirius stares at his reflection in the mirror, he can almost see Regulus standing behind him. For a while the Gryffindor and the Slytherin glare at each other, but then the two brothers smile and Sirius wishes he could tell Regulus that he forgives him. And, even though he is not entirely sure he means them, Sirius at last murmurs the words, "I'm proud of you."

_I find it hard to believe you don__'t know_

_The beauty you are_

_But if you don't let me be your eyes_

_A hand to your darkness, so you won__'t be afraid_

_I'll be your mirror_

_(reflect what you are)_

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